Birthday
by yuffiehighwind
Summary: Adam never imagined Bishop's daughter could be as beautiful as this. Or so relentless in her infatuation. Elle/Adam.


_**Story Summary: **__Adam never imagined Bishop's daughter could be as beautiful as this. Or so relentless in her infatuation. _

_**Notes: **__Elle/Adam. Takes place pre-series, based on dialogue in S2 Ep 8 "Four Months Ago." Many fanfics have retold this event, but here's my version. Sexually Explicit. Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own. _

* * *

**Birthday**

Bob Bishop had no qualms with putting his daughter in danger. The reason he kept her sealed in such a refined prison was to protect _other_ people from _her_. The first time they even trusted her on a job it was with Noah Bennett, and because they had needed a woman's touch. Gabriel Gray could be a powerful weapon. It was no accident they sent a beautiful, naive 22 year old like Elle his way.

_Elle wasn't that naive. She had figured out long ago she would never have a normal youth, never have friends or lovers, or parents who loved her more than as property._

Elle couldn't be trusted not to blow a mission. It was some time before they assigned her a second one, and only sent her on her own due to special circumstances. Like Adam Monroe.

_By twenty-four, Elle knew enough to recognize how much suffering her own father had inflicted on her. She could matter-of-factly tell a dour Peter Petrelli of her circumstances, either with guile, as Adam suggested, or sincerely sick of it all._

Bob Bishop had no qualms with putting his daughter in indelicate situations, either. He thought it lucky she looked like her mother. He sheltered her and kept her a child - an addled brain from too much electricity contributed to that - until she bloomed and it became clear her beauty could be an asset. They could hand her a script and men would melt. Short skirts replaced her long ones. Low-cut blouses her bulky sweaters. A woman came and taught her the basics of beauty, of flirtation, of seduction. Survival taught her the rest. Spoil left her with a puffed up ego she'd developed to shield a shattered center.

She was only sixteen.

* * *

Elle wandered down to the prisoners' cells out of curiosity. Why was the blonde man treated with such care, she wondered. People would avoid him for stretches at a time. He looked gaunt and starving sometimes. Other times he looked perfectly healthy - pink, handsome.

She would later discover that he didn't always need food because his special ability was rapid cellular regeneration.

Like Wolverine, they explained, to Elle's blank look.

The orderly who told her this never returned. Elle wasn't allowed to read _The X-Men_ or any other sci-fi, and little fantasy. If she caught wind of its message...No, the _X-Men_ would be too confusing - conflicting - for a simple girl like Elle. She might get the wrong idea.

"Who's Wolverine?" she asked her father one day.

He didn't immediately register her question.

"What, sweetie?"

"Clara told me the blonde man is like Wolverine."

Bishop's hand froze over paperwork he was filling out. He held his breath for a moment.

"You've been down to see Adam?"

"Is that his name? I never knew. Is there something special about him? He has so much security around him all the time. Is he a criminal?"

Bishop didn't know what to tell her and what to hide.

"He's a very bad man," he said, in a tone you use for a child, even though this was a 16-year-old girl. "And I don't want you asking any more questions. _Or_ going down there again, do you hear me?"

"But Daddy..."

He shooed her but she wouldn't budge. Elle pouted.

* * *

"Who's Wolverine?" she asked Harris, another Special.

Harris usually kept his power under wraps, but Elle thought he may be telekinetic.

"A comic book character. You know, _The X-Men?_"

He looked up and remembered who he was talking to.

"It's a story. About people like us."

Elle perked up at this. "People with abilities?"

"Yeah. But it's fantasy, nothing more. Real life is very different for us, as you well know." Harris sighed.

"And Wolverine?"

One detail was safe enough to share, he figured.

"Oh. He has adamantium claws. Metal!"

He made a _schick schick_ noise and flexed his arms, then he chuckled.

"Oh."

She looked disappointed and puzzled. Adam wasn't made of metal, was he?

Harris explained, "They put them in him. They were able to because he can heal - regenerate. He's lived centuries. He can't die."

"Like Adam," she murmured.

Harris' eyes widened and he realized he had crossed a very important line.

"What do you know about Adam?"

"Huh? Oh! Uh. Clara told me, uh, that he's, you know...Like that guy. Regenerative."

"He's old," Harris said. "_Very_ old, and very dangerous."

"He doesn't look very old. He's not much older than you and he's _much_ younger than Daddy."

"He only looks it." Harris chuckled. "Man, the stories he can tell. About half may be true, but it's difficult to make up even a quarter of it."

"How do you know?"

"I used to bring him things. His pills, his food. Laundry. They figured the telekinesis could come in handy if he tried anything."

"Why is he locked up?"

"Ask your father."

"He won't tell me!"

"Then ask Adam."

* * *

That blonde teenager tapped on the glass. Once, twice. Adam was reading, then looked up. She was smiling and held a tray of food, along with a small paper cup, probably of pills. She had also brought a cup of tea. _Tea!_ He'd have killed for one about a decade earlier. What clout did this girl have?

The guard let her in as readily as if she was Bishop. She walked in all smiley - a bit off, a bit wild behind the eyes - and placed the food on the desk in front of him.

"This is new."

The words were out before he could stop them.

"And who might you be? My new nurse?"

His eyes wandered up her body, pausing at her torso, and finally falling on the cutest face. She'd be a child if he _was_ 25, never mind 350.

He cleared his throat. She was nibbling her fingernails, ruining a perfect manicure. Her tongue swept out to moisten her lips. A beautiful captor indeed. She had to be a Special, though, to trust herself in his deadly company.

"Elle," she replied, sitting on the desk. He nudged the tray aside so the foolish girl couldn't knock it over. "So you're the Adam everyone's talking about."

"And what are they saying about me?" he asked, disinterested. _Another "fan." Prod the freak._

Adam lifted the mug - _(no proper teacup?)_ - to his lips when the kid tsked.

"Uh-uh," she said, proffering the little white cup of pills.

He glared at her. "Later."

Then he took a sip of tea. A conflicted but pleasurable feeling washed over him - the first of many he would have in Elle's company over the next 8 years. It was the first tea he'd been allowed in a decade but he could still tell the kid, a typical American, had buggered it up. Oh, well. It still tasted like home.

"Well? Push off."

He shooed her, but Elle huffed, "I'll have you know I'm Bob Bishop's daughter, so you should treat me with respect!"

Adam nearly spit out his drink. _Oh, no..._

"Bob has a daughter?" (_I didn't think she'd be as beautiful as this, he thought. I can't even picture the shlump having sex.)_ "My, my, I _have_ missed a lot down here."

"I've been watching you," she said, circling him as he tore into his meal. "Daddy won't tell me who you are or why you're really down here, so I'm here to ask. It _must_ be something juicy."

"What makes you think that?"

The girl's smile didn't fade but her hands began to glow a curious blue. He could detect an ominous smell, like right before a thunderstorm.

"You can heal, they said. Can't die. And that you're much older than Daddy. Than any of us."

Adam swallowed nervously. She held her hands apart, now, sparks shooting between them.

"Elle, what are you...?"

She reached out to touch him, fingertips placed just at the pulse point on his neck, and he convulsed with pain. He was used to pain. He had died and come back many, many times. Anesthetics didn't work on him, so any surgeries, autopsies, or experiments were done with him conscious and screaming. Fights as Kensei and wars over ages and duels and gunshots, drownings, stabbings (and 10 nagging wives). Self-inflicted suicides that didn't take and still he felt surprise that such an insignificant little teeny bopper could so easily inflict pain that hurt like a motherfucker.

His skin closed over the burns and he got up off the floor.

"You little cunt!"

"So it's true," she said, gazing wide-eyed at his healing body. "Like Wolverine!"

He had been locked up away from the world a short enough time to still get that reference.

"Like Wolverine."

* * *

Elle pulled strings to get more visits. Bishop was ignoring her enough not to notice.

Adam told the girl his side of the story, which left out the "Kill all humans" part, or the Shanti virus, but left it hanging that her father hated and feared him enough to keep him confined.

"I built this fucking company!" he'd blurt, rambling the entire ordeal, excising the worst bits - the bits she couldn't ever find out, at least not from him - and later dodging the tough questions.

"Ask your father his side," he'd say.

Elle was too terrified to ask.

When Bishop caught wind that Elle had zapped Adam right out of his chair, he figured she could handle herself well enough around the sociopath _(pots and kettles)_ to keep out of harm's way. She not only shocked people intentionally, but also when she was angry or scared. Adam couldn't try anything untoward - wouldn't. He'd get too many volts to his system - enough for Elle to escape.

Elle found longer skirts and bulkier sweaters back in her wardrobe.

* * *

The girl's curiosity opened him up more than any torture, but everything was an old war story. She prodded for sexy details about his past lovers - his ten wives. She couldn't believe Adam had loved them all.

He truly did. He'd lived a long time. Elle thought one love was eternal because of the fairy tales from childhood and "romance" novels she was now allowed. She couldn't possibly understand the heart can hold more than one, even at once, never mind serial monogamy stretching over three centuries.

Most left him. Two never did. Adam's ability was worse than any other punishment. Immortality was lonely and draining. He outlived his sons by centuries and made a point of carefully avoiding having any more.

"How old are you, Elle? You can't be more than 20."

"Sixteen," she replied. Once again, if he'd had liquid in his mouth, he'd spit.

"Sixteen?"

Adam's mind flitted over the questions she'd bugged him about sex. He had reminisced aloud, the two of them sitting on opposite sides of the room, his eyes shut to avoid watching her squirm and her eyes go glassy. It was too fun teasing her. He knew she wouldn't dare touch him. They'd both be punished. But he'd sneak open an eye and catch her biting her lip, watching him.

"You're only sixteen?"

"Seventeen next month."

"Jesus fucking Christ..."

"What is it?"

The wide gap between them seemed far too small a distance.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Oh. Okay. Hey, Adam..."

"What?"

"Who was your _first_ love?"

_Yaeko. _Three hundred and fifty years later and he could still picture her face. Beautiful, graceful, kind Yaeko.

Hiro's ugly mug always sprung up with her. Centuries and it still hurt. He longed to see the boy again and ruin him. Adam didn't know for sure if the boy was his old friend's son. Yakamura was a common enough name, but who else would have such an incredible power than the child of two Specials?

_Never mind that._ Adam shooed Elle away.

"I'll tell you sometime. When I see you." _(Please replace this one!)_

"Promise?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded and she left.

* * *

"Adam!" that familiar chirpy voice called from the doorway.

He groaned. He had been napping since there wasn't much else to do. Dreaming of Yaeko.

"What now, Elle?"

"It's my birthday today."

His heart sunk into his stomach. Not already? No. She'd been sixteen just a month ago.

"Let me guess. Seventeen. Bully for you. You can drive a car, now," he said dryly.

"No, silly! I don't have a license. Daddy won't let me. But here, I brought you a piece of my cake!"

Adam sat up and the girl handed him the plate. It was chocolate with sloppy buttercream frosting dyed blue. The girl had made it herself.

"Thank you," he said softly, and dug in.

A hand stuck in front of his face holding a cup of pills. He took them roughly, grazing her hand. The girl sat next to him on the bed.

"I want to hear more about Yaeko."

Swallowing down cake, Adam joked bitterly, "Didn't get past first base with that one."

_That one._ As if he could ever lump Yaeko with all his other lovers. She was his first real love, and she was snatched from him. _Any_ normal life was, when he didn't grow any older than that. Frozen young. As if that was something Yaeko and Hiro had done _to_ him and not a fault of genetics, or wherever his power came from.

"Why do you talk to me that way?" Elle asked, sounding hurt.

She zapped his hand and he nearly dropped his fork.

"You _ask_ me to. It's barely appropriate and yet you ask and prod and _tease_."

"When do I _tease?_ I'm not a _tease."_

"You swan in here all short skirt, open blouse..."

She crossed her arms.

"You touch me all the time."

"No more than appropriate," she said primly.

"Oh _please_," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Just to zap you," she defended. "Playfully."

She stepped forward to rub his head, then she let loose a shock. He grimaced.

"You're infatuated, admit it."

"_No_ I'm not!"

He put the empty plate on the desk.

"Ok, then you just want the attention."

He looked pointedly up at the security camera.

Caught in her lie, a look of defeat crossed her features, mingled with proud defiance. The girl leaned in close. She nuzzled his neck and he pulled away.

"Your _Daddy_'s attention. A revenge fuck with his worst enemy for ignoring you."

"No! That's not it at all! It's just that...you're so sexy, Adam."

"Hope you have a happy birthday, Elle. Now let me go back to sleep."

She placed her hand on his thigh. He jerked away. She did it again, so he stood up.

"Listen, child, I don't want you."

"You will. In time."

She gave him a sweet smile, crazed eyes above it.

* * *

The girl would alternate between a professional manner and an inappropriately sexual one.

Her presence was never regular. His usual caretakers came in and out of his room when anybody remembered to check. The tortures the Company used to inflict on him had abated in the past ten years, except for demands for his blood. Always his blood. The old agony was almost preferable to the peaceful confinement.

But the only person who would treat him like a friend was Elle, and that was only when she wasn't treating him like a toy.

Or like a therapist or a teacher. Her seventeenth year dragged on, her attention more frequent until finally she kept prodding his resistance. He'd try to read and she'd crawl into bed with him. He'd get up to pace and she'd be open legged on his bed, shirt unbuttoned. He'd be at his desk eating and she'd perch on top of it radiating heat. She'd invade his personal space at every opportunity. The only times people left him alone were to let him use the toilet. Elle popped up any other time, like a psychic.

Finally, he gave up and let her touch him. She'd rub his thigh while he talked. He'd get hard and she'd notice and smirk, but never touch it. It was absurd, after so many centuries, that his body wouldn't obey his mind - his carefully perfected self-control. But then again, he had always had a young man's body, and quarter of a century was a long time without another's touch.

* * *

Elle knocked on the door and did an unusual thing - she overloaded and broke the security camera.

"Adam."

"What, Elle?"

"It's my birthday today."

_Oh, no._

She padded over with cake. Same sloppy mess from a year earlier. He took it. She plopped herself in his lap, straddling him like an old lover, and gave him that mad stare - marbles missing - and a devious smirk. She rocked her pelvis and felt him grow hard.

"Let me guess. You're eighteen."

She nodded and kissed him. He shut his eyes but didn't kiss her back. Adam kept his hands away from her, by his side, not touching. But whatever his cock did was of its own accord. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shocked him. The electricity coursed down his back. She kissed him again but he turned his head.

_Ohh..._that gentle rocking motion. He could come from that, it had been so long. But he had mastered that long ago. (How else did he avoid getting his wives pregnant? Pulling out - humanity's oldest birth control.)

"Elle, we can't do this."

"But you want to!"

"Sure, my body wants to, but I can't really help what it does, can I? Not when you're doing _that_."

"Just let go, then," she whispered.

She just wanted the satisfaction, the conquest...

_No._

"I don't want you, little _girl_."

He gently pushed her off of him, but when he noticed her hands start to glow, felt his hair stand on end, he stood up. She fell on the floor.

"Yes you do. Yes you will."

_Was she crying?_

The girl got up, wiped her eyes and headed for the door.

She didn't return for three months.

* * *

"Adam," she said.

She held out pills and a cup of water, then placed them on his desk.

"Have you come to your senses, then?"

She shook her head. Out went the camera. The girl rushed forward to embrace him, pushed him down on the bed with a shock. He shuddered. She kissed his neck, his face... She kissed his lips and finally he kissed back. What else could he possibly do under the circumstances?

Elle took off her shirt and her bra. She took his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts. He squeezed. The girl straddled him and rocked her pelvis. His breath shallow, he let her kiss him again. Sloppy kisses. Inexperienced. He tried guiding her tongue with his, slowing her down with expert care. He cupped her face and sucked on her lip.

"Slow down," he whispered.

Elle stopped moving. He caressed her hair, the back of her neck. Gave her long, languorous kisses.

Then he remembered _who_ he was kissing.

"We can't do this."

Her dreamy expression rapidly transformed into indignation.

"You're joking."

Adam tried to sit up, but she pushed him down.

"No," she said," We're doing this. It's happening."

"It's not happening, Elle. Not ever."

He sat up. Self-conscious, she covered her breasts.

"What was that, Adam? Just now?"

"You're very beautiful," was all he said. Her expression demanded more. "I haven't had a lover in a very, very long time."

She got dressed, flushed and hurt.

"Why the fuck do you do this to me, Elle? Am I a toy?"

"You're a man."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Get out. Get out of here right now."

Adam pointed at the door. She stormed out.

* * *

The girl returned another three months later with a cup of pills and a cup of water.

"Cora let me in."

_Cora, Clara, Harris, Hank._ The turnover in this prison sure was high.

"What do you want?"

Zap. Camera out. Whoever was replacing these kept a tight lip around Bishop.

Elle stepped forward and with no other words, kissed him. He pushed her away but she zapped him. Hard.

She tasted like a battery but her body still felt like freedom.

"Please," she begged. Adam finally let his hands roam. He flipped her over, pinning her underneath him on his bed. The mattress groaned.

She wanted him? He could give her the real, rough Adam. Ruthless warrior Adam. Or make it sweet, tender. He settled on some combination.

He sat up to undress her, opening up her blouse but leaving her bra, kissing her throat, her breasts, and her stomach. Adam lifted up her skirt and pulled her panties down. Together they shimmied Elle out of them, and dropped them on the floor beside the awkwardly small bed.

Laying down beside her, Adam lightly rubbed her inner thigh before sliding his hand upwards, grazing over her wet slit and resting on her clitoris. He began to rub her clit with his fingertips, slowly at first and then faster. Elle moaned and squirmed under his touch. Then she eased into it, calming down, and quieted.

"Ohh, Adam..." she whispered.

"Come on, Elle," he murmured. "Come for me."

The girl was tense and self-conscious, and it took some time to get her there. Finally Elle gasped for air, letting out a squeaky, _"Ohh!"_ when her body shuddered and she came.

"_That's_ it. Good girl."

But Elle started to emit involuntary sparks. The girl opened her eyes.

"Sorry! Oh, sorry!"

Apologizing for shocking him was new. She started to sit up but he pressed her down and climbed on top of her.

"My turn," he said, more coldly.

Adam pushed his sweatpants down and positioned his cock. He opened her legs wider and she let him, still limp with pleasure. She cried out in pain when he entered her. He stopped and pulled out.

"What is it? What happened?"

"I'm a virgin," she blurted.

_Oh, fuck_.

"This is going to hurt," he told her. "Try not to shock me."

Elle shut her eyes. Adam entered her again and the pleasure was nearly overwhelming, but tempered by nagging guilt and painful energy bursts from his crying electric lover. He thrust slowly and the girl let out a shaky breath. Then he realized he hadn't even asked her consent.

Adam sped up and she clutched his shoulders. He gazed anywhere but at Elle, until the girl stared at him long enough to make him meet her eyes. Unnerved by her conflicted expression - a mix of lust and pain - he kissed her.

He shut his eyes and imagined Yaeko.

The thought of her brought him dangerously close, so Adam pulled out and kneeled over Elle, jerking himself off onto her stomach. He came on her abdomen, and some drops unavoidably got on her skirt. Elle's eyes were drawn to his cock and she watched him come. The girl frowned in disgust. Adam cleaned himself with whatever was at hand, which were the sheets, then pulled up his sweatpants.

Elle just lay there, looking stunned. He got up and returned with a wad of toilet paper. Not looking at her directly, he said, "I didn't want to risk you getting pregnant."

The girl cleaned herself off, watching him take the pills and swig the water. After a drawn out silence, he said, "I didn't know."

Elle understood what he meant and replied, "It's okay. I didn't tell you."

Sticky and sore, she got dressed and left.

* * *

Bob Bishop had Adam tortured for weeks. He would be surprised by random ones as well, for months and years afterwards.

Elle finally reappeared years later and acted the chirpy ex-lover. As if she was an old girlfriend, and not the reason Bishop not only kept Adam imprisoned, but regularly inflicted terrible pain on him in retaliation, as a reminder not to touch what was his. The girl dangled the tryst over Adam's head as if it was some goof that had little consequence but a simple break-up, and was not another crime Adam had committed against the Company that was added to a long, growing list.

She joked about the tryst like it had been his idea. His fault.

_"I would keep my distance from that one. I caved in a desperate moment six years ago, and I'm still paying the price."_


End file.
